


place your better days

by saekhwa



Series: When I Think of Home [5]
Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Old Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 10:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10683744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/saekhwa
Summary: Rick's old and still so goddamn in love with Floyd.





	place your better days

Rick slid out of the car with a heavy sigh, clutching the door — only for a second — when his back twinged. He leaned backward to try and stretch it out and spotted Mrs. Washington across the street, staring at him. He waved, and same as always, she waved and then turned, going back to pruning her garden. 

Once he'd stretched enough that his back wasn't going to knot up tighter, he went to the mailbox. Looked like a lot of junk, but he rifled through it as he headed toward the front door. He smiled at the letter from Zoe, amused she still sent them, even though she visited every other weekend. Each letter made them happy, though. Floyd kept every one of 'em, and Rick had gotten a couple of nice boxes for Floyd's birthday, so they could store them safely. 

Rick lost his smile the moment he spotted a plain white envelope, his name scrawled on the front. He froze. Then he darted a look at the windows. He didn't spot Floyd or signs of a break-in, but that didn't mean it was safe. Metahumans and aliens could phase right through a wall — he'd seen it. He'd seen a lot of shit working for Waller's task force. So he shook his head and walked back to the curb. He thought about walking to the intersection, and eyed it for a second, but decided against it. If anything, this would be localized. They'd get Floyd and Rick without letting on to any of their neighbors, so he ripped open the envelope, both eyes wide open. 

A letter. Just a plain ol' letter from the landlady. Rick let go of the breath he'd been holding and let his shoulders fall as he scanned it — Mrs. Tucker letting him and Floyd know the lease was up in a month and a half and how delighted she'd be if they wanted to renew. 

It struck Rick all at once that it'd been two years. Two years of an uncertain freedom, him and Floyd watching each other's backs, staying on edge, ready to bug out the second it looked like Waller or any agency or even a member of the Justice League had an eye on 'em. But also two years of block parties and Zoe doing her homework in the kitchen and Floyd joining Rick on the couch in the middle of the night when neither one of 'em could sleep. 

Rick looked at the house again, and his smile returned as he thought about walking in there. 

"You all right?" Mrs. Washington asked, and Rick flinched. 

Just that quickly, he'd been caught off guard, and no matter how many years passed, Rick knew he couldn't afford to get so damn comfortable, much as he wanted to. He turned to face Mrs. Washington and reassure her that he was fine, but she was already crossing the street, hat in her hand, the sun glinting off the charms that decorated her gray locs. 

"I'll go and get Floyd."

Rick shook his head with a quick, "No, ma'am, I'm—"

But it was too late. She gave him a wide berth, long strides taking her straight to the door. Rick reached it just as Floyd opened it with a frown, glancing between Mrs. Washington and Rick, who shook his head and gave the hand signal for all-clear. 

Floyd nodded, leaning against the door jamb, frown replaced with a half-smile as he asked, "Everything okay?"

"Floyd," Mrs. Washington said, and gestured at Rick to her left, "he can't be standing out in the middle of the street looking like he's been possessed." She glanced at Rick, but instead of taking a step away from him like he'd expected, her fingers tightened on her hat and she squared her shoulders, looking him dead on with a question in her eyes. 

"Thanks for your concern, Mrs. Washington," was all Rick could say, and he pointed into the house, waiting for Floyd to step aside, so he could get inside. "I'm going to get some water. Probably need to sit down."

Floyd's shoulders shook with a suppressed chuckle, and the last Rick heard behind him was, "That white boy's gonna…"

He did get himself a glass of water, 'cause that put enough distance between him and the door so he wouldn't risk eavesdropping and it gave him access to the trash can, where he dumped the junk mail. When he heard the door shut, he went back into the living room to face Floyd and his shit-eating grin. 

"Don't say it," Rick warned, but it didn't stop Floyd from laughing as they walked toward each other, meeting in the middle of the living room. 

Rick shook his head but kissed Floyd anyway, just needed that sense of home as Floyd's arms slid around his waist. Floyd drew back first, and Rick opened his eyes to see Floyd searching his face, looking for answers. 

Floyd still asked, "So why were you standing out there like you'd been possessed?"

This would be their new joke now. Rick could see it in the twitch of Floyd's lips, so he let himself smile as he held up the envelope. "Lease is up."

Floyd tightened his arms around Rick, letting his smile loose as he nodded. "Figured it was about that time."

Rick nodded in agreement but couldn't find a way to answer Floyd's first question, to tell him, _it just got me thinkin' is all_. "How was your day?" he said instead. 

Floyd shrugged. "Same ol', same ol'. You?"

Rick shrugged, too, and tapped Floyd's shoulder with the letter. "What do you want to do?"

Floyd grinned like he'd been waiting for that question, and the drift of his fingers at the small of Rick's back made Rick's skin prickle. "There's that house. End of the block. Gives us better exit routes but keeps us in the neighborhood."

Rick nodded, laugh soft, and he nodded again, knowing exactly which house Floyd was talking about. He'd eyed it for the same reasons when they'd first settled on the neighborhood. "I'll call up the boys."

" _Or_ you could…" Floyd trailed off 'cause they'd talked about this already, and just those few words got Rick to scowling. 

"I'll call up the guys," Rick repeated.

Floyd just laughed, nodded, and reminded Rick, "It's your back you're killin'."

"My back's just fine," Rick mumbled, and their grin was just another agree to disagree as they headed into the kitchen to fix up dinner.


End file.
